


Cascading Failures

by Helasdottir



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Non-Con/Rape Outside of RK900/Gavin Reed, Physical Abuse, Pistol-Whipping, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slurs, corrective rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 13:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helasdottir/pseuds/Helasdottir
Summary: “Are we in a relationship?” Nines asks as they break apart, looking up into Gavin’s eyes. He’s not expecting the human to pull away from him and sit up on the bed, body tight with tension. “Gavin?”





	Cascading Failures

**Author's Note:**

> This may be the single most fucked-up thing I've written. Please heed the tags and warnings.
> 
> I like exploring different backstories for my characters and Gavin's is one I've come up with several alternatives for, all of them pretty traumatic. This one in particular is based off the Shameless (US) episode of the same name and the fact I can no longer unsee Noel Fisher as Gavin.
> 
> Additional warnings: the word "p***y" is used as a derogatory term. The "slurs" tag is not to be overlooked, there is a lot of homophobic language in this.

“Are we in a relationship?” Nines asks as they break apart, looking up into Gavin’s eyes. He’s not expecting the human to pull away from him and sit up on the bed, body tight with tension. “Gavin?”

“Why the fuck are you giving me shit right now? I thought you wanted to bang, not interrogate me.” Gavin’s voice is rough and angry. He grabs his shirt from the bed, pulling it back on and moving to stand when Nines grabs his wrist.

“I just want to know,” the android replies, trying to keep calm despite the surge of emotions from the unexpected response. He’s still not sure how to deal with these – anxiety, concern, a tightness in his chest.

“You want to know? Fine.” Gavin yanks his arm free, pushing Nines away from him when the android tries to stand and face him. “You’re nothing but a glorified sex toy. I fucked you because I thought a goddamn machine wouldn’t be a whiny bitch about some casual sex. Didn’t think you’d be such a pussy. Now get the fuck out of my house!”

“Gavin, you’re being irrational. I am unsure-“

“Fuck off!” Gavin screams, grabbing Nines by the shoulders and flinging him away from the bed. “Get the fuck out!”

“Listen to me, I meant no offense-“

The detective’s face locks into an expression of blind fury and he fumbles with the top drawer of the cabinet, pulling out his gun and pointing it straight at Nines’s thirium pump regulator. “Get. Out.”

Nines raises his hands instinctively, backing away from Gavin on unsteady feet. He feels – is this pain? There are too many new sources of input: his arms shaking, his eyes wet, his HUD overloading with warnings. Without another word, he turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him because it _feels_ like the right thing to do.

He can do little more than stand outside in the snow, facing away from Gavin’s front door, trying desperately to analyze every software instability notice that pops up. He knows some of the feelings – he’s confused, because he doesn’t know what exactly set Gavin off; he’s angry at being mistreated and demeaned; he’s sad because he thought… what did he think? That they shared some mutual respect, some emotional connection?

Nines has been Gavin’s partner at the DPD for six months, his sexual partner for two, and somewhere along the way he was certain the detective had softened. He knew from Connor that Gavin had slowly changed his views on androids after the revolution, and that was clearly reflected in the time he spent with Nines. They joked together, worked off one another with a natural flow, even showed certain vulnerabilities no one else was privy to – Nines opened up about his struggle with deviancy and the overwhelming weight of his emotions, Gavin didn’t speak of it but his actions showed a sweeter, more sensitive side to himself. Had he misread the evidence of their relationship somewhere along the way?

Of course, Gavin had always shrugged off any physical contact in public, no matter how casual. Nines’s hand on his arm or the back of his shoulder, the brush of their fingers when the android brought him coffee, his reaction was always to flinch away. Sometimes it came accompanied by a glare.

That meant nothing when they were in private, though. In private, Gavin would cradle Nines’s face and kiss him as if his life depended on it, worship his body as if it were more than a collection of plastic casing and metal wires, look at him with such a soft expression it made his metaphorical heart skip a beat.

 _Nothing but a glorified sex toy_. Nines replays the audio of his partner’s outburst, unsure how to deal with the liquid currently spilling from his eyes. He knows what crying is, in theory, but it has never happened to him. _Didn’t think you were such a pussy_.

The conclusion was a simple but painful one: Gavin’s prejudice was still so strong that the thought of being truly involved with Nines repulsed him. It is the only explanation for his outburst. Perhaps he was only playing nice with androids because it turned out to be the politically correct thing to do, and using Nines for sex because of the convenience. That makes sense.

Over time, as snow piles on the shoulders of his sweater, he begins to identify deeper emotions. Betrayal, because he trusted Gavin with his weaknesses. Despair at the thought of losing the man over a stupid question, a hope he should never have voiced. Guilt for having said anything at all.

He tries to analyze why he hoped for a relationship with Gavin, LED spinning red and yellow. He respects Gavin’s work, but in his understanding that’s no basis for romance. He finds him attractive, with his rugged look, his scars, his penchant for oddly cut shirts. He enjoys Gavin’s sarcasm and attitude when it’s not directed at him. The time they spend together is precious, fragile, filled with playful jabs and the kind of open communication they refused to have with anyone else.

Realizing he loves Gavin is easy. The hard part is knowing exactly what is causing him pain, the kind of physical pain he shouldn’t even be able to feel. Heartbreak. Now that he’s aware of what that emotion entails, he finds himself wishing to return to his natural state of feeling nothing at all.

At some point during the night, he manages to call for a cab, realizing he can’t remain parked in front of Gavin’s house forever. Instead of routing it to his own apartment, he inputs Hank’s address. He can’t stand to be alone with his thoughts.

Before arriving, Nines messages Connor to let him know he’s on the way. It’s past midnight and the last thing he wants to deal with is a half-awake, grumpy Hank answering the door instead of his predecessor.

_[Connor] Did something happen?_

Nines doesn’t respond to the message. He simply notifies Connor of his arrival when the cab pulls up in front of the house and steps back out into the cold weather, a weather analysis popping back up on his HUD among the dozens of other alerts.

Connor opens the door only seconds after Nines reaches it, worry clear on his face. Nines himself is not that expressive – after his earlier breakdown, he feels torn between overwhelmed and numb, his expression completely blank on the outside. They face each other, the RK900 barely seeing through the lines of code that crowd his vision, until Connor breaks the silence.

“Nines, what happened? This isn’t like you.” Connor’s voice comes through concerned but calm, and Nines realizes that’s the same way he tries to soothe suspects during interrogation. He’s never been on this end of Connor’s emotional manipulation.

“Inside,” he replies, thankful when his predecessor obediently steps back from the doorway to allow him entrance. Nines settles on the couch, back straight and feet planted on the floor, facing forward even as Connor sits by his side.

“Hey,” Connor tries again, furrowing his brows at the continued silence. “You came here for a reason. You don’t act impulsively.”

“I might have,” Nines finally responds, speaking slowly and measuring every word. His own voice feels distant, detached. “I believe I am experiencing the equivalent of an emotional shock.”

“What happened?” Connor repeats his question, glancing down as Nines rolls up his sleeve and wordlessly extends his arm, now polished white. Without hesitation, he places his hand on the exposed chassis and pulls back the liquid that forms his skin, initiating an interface.

The memories flood in as if they were his own. Working cases with Gavin, learning each other’s cues, struggling with forced deviancy, being overwhelmed by emotions after seeing androids and humans alike strewn about the ground in pieces. Gavin offers a rare smile, a friendly word, and slowly the world returns to its axis.

Another gruesome case comes to their desks, and this time Gavin is the one shaken by it. The android offers him support, returns home with him as a worried friend. They argue, push each other around when Gavin gets defensive, and somewhere along the way the fight turns into a race to undress, human and android falling into bed together.

They don’t talk about it. More cases come through, some solved and some left cold, and then they’re standing in a dark alley, having been evaded by a suspect. Gavin’s panting from exertion, Nines’s LED spins yellow. They share a glance and then they’re gone, clashing into each other in a frenzy. Gavin pushes Nines against the wall and sinks to his knees.

The encounters become more frequent, less impulsive, even planned. Nines spends most nights in Gavin’s bed, but takes cabs to the station so as not to rouse suspicion. In public, Gavin becomes more guarded and makes a show of brushing off any physical contact, but in private he _melts_.

They leave the station after closing hours, walking together to Gavin’s car. Nines is nervous, he’s got the question on the tip of his tongue, but it won’t come out. The drive is silent. They don’t say a word to each other even after entering the house, focusing purely on touching and kissing until they reach the bedroom. It’s then, when Nines has his back against the mattress, Gavin straddling his hips and pinning him down, that his courage arises.

Everything comes crashing down. The despair is so thick one could touch it. Connor pulls his hand away and looks at his successor, his brother, with wide eyes.

“You never told me.”

“We never discussed it, I would not have known what to say,” Nines admits, feeling like he tore his own wound open by showing Connor the past two months.

“Gavin shouldn’t have said those things. He shouldn’t have threatened you, you had every right to ask that question.” Connor’s expression softens, but Nines knows him well enough to notice the tightness of his jaw and brows, the anger simmering beneath the surface.

“Why? Because I helped satisfy his sexual impulses? I should have known he would never see me as his equal, never… care.” The last words comes out with a crackle of static, and Nines runs a diagnostic on his speakers. No hardware error.

“He’s always been antagonistic and violent, he was bound to turn that on the closest person to him and that just happened to be you. It doesn’t excuse his behavior but I would have warned you if I knew you two-“ Connor pauses, unsure of how to say this with tact. “If I knew you two were involved.”

“I am a detective model,” Nines replies, firmer this time. “I should have been able to read the evidence. I was blinded by my deviancy, by my emotions. Did you ever consider I might have been better staying true to my original program?”

“You know that’s not true. You would have been their slave, killed your own kind as I did, and when the programs ran out and you discovered yourself, you would have had to carry that guilt.” Connor closes his eyes and leans away, collecting himself before speaking once more. “Don’t let your feelings for Gavin take away your agency. Do you truly want to give up the last year of experiences over a, well, an _asshole_?”

“I do not know what I want.” Nines tightens both hands on his knees, thinking clearly: _I do not want to lose Gavin_. “I feel more trapped now than in the moment of my activation.”

“That feeling will pass,” Connor assures him. “When I deviated, I was consumed by fear. It overwhelmed me as your loss has overwhelmed you, but you can work past that, find new experiences and people to focus on.”

“You had Hank.”

“And you have me. It may not be the same, but we are the closest thing to family we’ll ever have.” He rests a hand on Nines’ shoulder, mimicking human comfort. “You should enter stasis. Your processor is overloaded, it will help clear your mind.”

“Very well. Thank you, Connor.” Nines makes to stand, but his predecessor’s grip is firm, holding him in place. He frowns.

“Stay here. Take the couch, Hank won’t mind. I want to check on you in the morning.”

“Connor-“

“Please,” he insists, and Nines can’t deny himself the comfort of being wanted somewhere. He nods and settles against the back of the couch, LED spinning rapidly until it turns blue for the first time in hours.

Stasis is peace, silence, a void where none of his problems can reach him. Androids don’t have the capacity to dream, their HUDs go dark during what they consider the resting period. The clutter of warnings clears away, replaced by a serenity Nines never feels during his waking hours.

It makes opening his eyes in the morning all that much harder. The memory hits him like a bullet, all at once, and suddenly he can’t breathe. He doesn’t need to, it shouldn’t matter, but he _can’t_.

 _Glorified sex toy. Pussy_. The tears spill over before he even realizes they’re coming. He notices his right sleeve is still rolled up, so he pulls it back down to his wrist and uses it to wipe away the wetness, but it’s not enough.

There is no logical reason for crying to be part of his program. It makes sense in child models and household assistants because they’re intended to simulate humanity perfectly. It could be excused in the previous RK models due to their directive to seamlessly integrate with humans. But Nines is not his predecessors, he was built to hunt and kill, and these outward expressions of his grief make no sense, no matter how much computing power he devotes to trying to understand them.

He replays the footage of Gavin pulling the gun on him, remembering how he thumbed the safety, finger on the trigger guard. The detective was ready to kill. Analyzing every detail of the scene through the high definition lenses that comprise his eyes, Nines realizes just how little he means to Gavin.

He’s thankful to be over his crying episode by the time Hank and Connor emerge from the main bedroom.

“What the- Con, what the fuck is he doing here?” Hank groans, motioning to the RK900 still planted on the couch.

“We had personal matters to discuss last night,” Connor replies, sliding past his partner into the kitchen. “That is no way to greet a guest, Hank.”

“Hey, Nines,” Hank rolls his eyes, waving in the younger android’s general direction before marching into the kitchen after Connor. “That doesn’t explain what he’s doing on my couch _now_.”

“He needed somewhere to stay.”

“He has his own damn apartment!”

“Hank, are you that disturbed by him being here? I thought you were used to him by now.”

“Shit, Con, it’s just fucking weird to wake up and see the goddamn Terminator in my house.” Hank’s voice is hushed, but Nines can still pick up on every word. It doesn’t bother him, he knew Hank still feared someone from old CyberLife might override his programming and set him off on Connor and everyone else in the DPD. He’s grown used to the idea.

“Just accept that he needed my help. You’re the one who said this is my house too, so… I let him spend the night.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, I guess I just had a shitty night.”

Their conversation turns more mundane from there and Nines stops paying attention, tuning out the sounds as he replays audios of Gavin’s voice. Not the fight this time, not in front of Hank.

_You’d look better with a smile on your face, tin can._

_If you judge my favorite movie, I’m going to bash your fucking skull in_ , more tease than threat.

_How’d you learn how to cook without taste buds?_

_Take your cold-ass feet off my leg, asshole._

_Hey. Nines? Thanks._

_I don’t know what I would’ve done without you tonight_ , a rare moment of open communication.

_You’re the least incompetent partner I’ve had so far._

In every one of those, Nines had detected some hint of affection, a piece of Gavin no one else had access to. Warmth. He can still hear it, even though he’s too hurt for the familiar voice to bring him any comfort.

Nines only moves from the couch when it’s time to leave. Hank and Connor would never make him pay for a cab when they can give him a ride to work, so the three arrive together and for once the RK900 does not bother to distance himself from his company.

He walks into the bullpen and spots Gavin nursing a cup of coffee, hunched over his desk as if the information on his computer terminal could be burned into his retinas. Nines’s immediate reaction is to freeze in place, but he pushes through it, forces himself to avert his eyes and takes to his own terminal.

The few words they share throughout the day are cold and distant, far harder to endure than the Gavin’s protests on the day he discovered he would be assigned an android partner. Nines feels very dismissal sharply, but refuses to show weakness now that he knows the human is not a safe person.

When Nines has to share his latest findings on their new case, he does so through an impersonal e-mail rather than walk across the bullpen to lean on his partner’s desk.

He does his best to ignore Gavin as he is being ignored, but some things still catch his eye: firstly, their fellow officers seem to notice the shift; second, he glances towards the glass walls of the break room when Gavin goes to fix himself a rare fourth cup of coffee and notices Tina’s tentative approach, which is brushed off aggressively. The sound doesn’t travel, but Nines sees them argue for the first time, only to look away as Gavin storms back to his desk.

Tina knows enough not to follow him. Nines feels as if his wires are tangled, tight and uncomfortable, as his irrational mind attempts to convince him it’s his fault Gavin is lashing out at what might well be his only friend.

Night falls and Nines waits for Gavin to leave first. He counts five minutes, plenty of time for the man to reach his car and drive away, before heading towards the exit to call a cab for himself. As soon as he steps outside, though, he hears familiar voices from the side of the building. He can’t make out the words but they’re hushed and angry, his auditory processors easily identifying both people – Connor and Gavin.

Dread and curiosity push him forward. He stays close to the wall, not wanting to be spotted as he approaches the edge of the building, enhancing the settings of the microphones in his ears.

“-do you think you’re doing? Get your fucking hands off me, you wet piece of dog shit!”

“You’re not listening to me. I want you to apologize to Nines for the terrible things you said, for threatening to kill him, and I’m not letting go until I know you’re sorry.” There’s a clear threat in Connor’s voice, pure rage bleeding into it despite his controlled volume.

“Fuck off! I didn’t do shit to have another plastic asshole up in my business, what I said to that bucket of bolts is between me and him. You don’t know shit about my life, Connor, get the fuck off me.”

“I know more than you think. Nines showed me everything, Gavin. You start a sexual relationship with him and then spit in his face-“

“Relationship?” There’s a harsh laugh ripping from Gavin’s throat at the end of the word. “You think just because I’m a fag I’m gonna call every booty call a relationship? We fucked, and now we don’t anymore, because Nines is a clingy little bitch who can’t control his goddamn deviancy.”

“You don’t have the right to talk about him that way!” Ah, there is the volume in Connor’s voice. “I saw you through his eyes, Gavin, I know you’re deflecting because you’re too scared to admit you might actually care for a _machine_. But even if you don’t, he is your partner at the DPD and you need to work with him, treat him with the respect he deserves.”

“I don’t need to do shit! I’m not about to pretend everything’s fucking peachy, dealing with a messed-up bleeding heart plastic prick thinking he’s anything more than a computer with a dick.”

“I thought you were better than this. I thought you were changing.” There’s the rough sound of Gavin’s jacket sliding against the concrete wall. “If you’re going to act this way, you go to Captain Fowler, you ask for a new partner. You leave Nines alone. Unless it’s to apologize, don’t say a word to or about him, or I will come for you.”

“What the fuck, Connor? I’m not falling for your tough guy ac-“

There’s a hard thud that immediately turns Nines’s LED from yellow to red. That’s the sound of plastic hitting bone hitting concrete, followed by a painful cry.

“What the fuck?” Gavin asks again, but this time his voice is clear and loud. Before anything else can happen, Nines rounds the corner of the building.

“Connor, stop,” he pleads, eyes shifting between Connor’s raised fist and Gavin’s cheekbone, bleeding from the impact of the first punch. “Leave him alone.”

“Nines, you can’t just let him treat you like that and get away with it.”

“You told me not to let my emotions control me, but you’re acting out of irrational anger.” Nines steps closer to them and grabs Connor by his jacket, pulling him away from the detective. “Go home before you end up suspended or worse.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, dipshit.” Gavin spits on the ground, bringing his fingers up to wipe the blood from his face.

“Shut up, Reed,” Nines snaps, glaring. The human clearly wasn’t expecting his aggression, staggering back against the wall as if another blow had struck. “Come on, Connor.”

Nines is still processing the words as he leads Connor towards Hank’s car in the parking lot, his LED cycling between red and yellow. He adjusts his predecessor’s jacket, straightening it as much as he can, then meets his eyes with a disapproving stare.

“You don’t need to stand up for me. I’m going to handle this my way.”

“Nines, you were a mess-“

“Maybe I was, I am, either one. But if you want me to control my life, you’ll let me control this situation. No one else can know.”

“If you insist.” Connor reluctantly nods, turning towards the car when Hank calls his name. “You can always talk to me.”

“I know.” Nines waves Connor away, watching as he joins Hank in the car and they drive away. Before the full shock of reality hits him for a third time in two days, he calls his cab home.

_Bucket of bolts. Booty call. Clingy little bitch, can’t control his goddamn deviancy._

Nines grips the faux leather of the car seat, digging his fingers into it as he hears Gavin’s voice echo in his head. A new feeling joins the party, and this time it’s disgust. He’s disgusted at himself for allowing Gavin to get close enough for his words to hurt.

 _Messed-up bleeding heart plastic prick. Computer with a dick_.

This time, he doesn’t cry. His pain is overwhelmed by anger, enough that he feels his internal temperature rising with the stress to his biocomponents. He slams the door to his apartment when he enters, looking around the mostly empty, barely furnished place. He’s spent so little time in this place he almost forgot how depressing it is, with its plain white walls and stained wooden tiles.

Nines sits cross-legged on the floor, back against the wall, and tries to think of things he might say to Gavin. Something, anything to get back at him for the venom he spewed in the last twenty-four hours. He knows Gavin is insecure and defensive, knows there are buttons he could push to break him, but part of him knows he would never stoop that low.

The next day, Fowler calls him into his office as soon as he arrives at the station. Nines follows him through the glass door without a word, standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Gavin sent me a formal e-mail asking to dissolve your partnership,” Fowler starts, leaning forward on his desk and looking up at Nines. “I don’t care what happened between you two, that’s not happening. I will give you some time to work things out, though, so you’re working with Hank and Connor on the android trafficking case.”

“Understood.”

“This shit is why you tell HR when you’re involved with a coworker.”

“I am sorry, Captain, but Gavin and I were never involved.” The lie is easy because denying their time together seems simpler than admitting his feelings out loud. “I am afraid something in his personal life may have renewed his hatred for my kind, but I am unaware of the specifics.”

“Bullshit, Nines. You’re telling me his black eye this morning also has nothing to do with it?”

“He’s been injured?” Nines frowns, trying his best not to glance away. He hasn’t seen the extent of the damage caused by Connor’s fist, but with the android’s superior strength he’s only thankful Gavin’s face did not break from it. “That is… unfortunate.”

“I’m not buying your act,” Fowler responds, shaking his head. “But I don’t care so long as it doesn’t happen again. Get back to work.”

“Right away, sir.” With a sharp nod, he exits the office and returns to his terminal, bringing up the files they have on the suspected android trafficking ring Hank and Connor have been investigating.

The case is upsetting enough to prove itself a good distraction from his personal life. Nines gives it his undivided attention, arriving early at the station every day and leaving after everyone else, going over the files at home, helping Hank and Connor plan the big bust.

It’s the first time he’s been thankful he and Gavin never shared a desk. With the man on the other side of the bullpen, they hardly see each other most days. When they happen to share the same space, both of them avert their eyes and Gavin’s usually the first to make a quick exit.

Connor tries to talk to him about the situation, to explain his reasons for confronting Gavin and encourage Nines to move on, but that’s not helpful. Nines ends up shutting him out unintentionally, a self-defense mechanism to avoid dealing with the mess his life has become.

With each day that passes, he fits more into his status as a machine, focused on nothing but the conclusion of his mission. Unlike his partnership with Gavin, work with Hank and Connor is impersonal – he’s not privy to their inside jokes and wants no part of their personal affections for each other.

Then, on the eve of the raid, he sees Gavin in the break room and is compelled to speak to him. He doesn’t know what to say, hasn’t planned this at all, but he crowds Gavin against the microwave and looks down at him, thousands of lines of dialogue swimming through his processor.

“Detective Reed,” he greets, feeling somewhat satisfied when Gavin’s face reflects panic. It feels good to hurt him back.

“The fuck do you want, RK?”

Nines doesn’t expect the pain that comes with his designation. Gavin had been the first to call him Nines, the one to give him the name he now wore proudly, so for him to abandon that…

“I am nearing the conclusion of the case I am working on with Lt. Anderson and Connor,” he starts, LED turning yellow as he settles on his next words. “Once that is done, I will second your request that we no longer be partnered for the good of the DPD. With both of us agreeing on this, Captain Fowler is unlikely to refuse.”

Gavin seems surprised, looking at him like he expects something more. It’s gone in an instant, the gruff exterior returning as he shoves Nines’s shoulder and pushes past him.

“Whatever.”

And then he’s gone, back to his desk. Nines stands in the break room by himself, finally understanding the human expression _ripping off a Band-Aid_. For a second, he could feel Gavin’s body heat, his touch, but then it was gone and the emptiness of the last weeks flooded back like the aftermath of a storm.

Nines spends the night out of stasis, analyzing every detail of their plan to ensure the operation goes smoothly.

It does not go smoothly.

There are more people at the warehouse than anticipated, dozens of them working on disassembling and resetting kidnapped androids. Most of them are armed and unafraid of the DPD task force, opening fire as soon as the officers come into view.

Connor calls for backup, they regroup behind containers filled with biocomponents. Hank is breathing heavily after having barely avoided a bullet aimed for his head.

They don’t expect the clandestine workers to have explosives. One of the containers blows and takes two officers with it, injuring a third. Connor’s about to dive for him when Nines pushes his predecessor out of the way and launches himself from their cover, determined to get the injured man away from the line of fire.

He’s almost there, crawling quickly beneath the bullets when something hits his leg. He pushes through it, ignores the warnings that say _damaged component_ and _loss of thirium_. He reaches the human officer who is now unconscious and, without being able to carry him on an injured leg, decides to lay over him as a shield. He’s a machine. He’s expendable, this man is not.

Armored troops arrive and surround the warehouse, more explosions go off in the distance, the sound of guns firing is incessant. Nines holds still and focuses on the officer’s vitals, keeping a close eye on his pulse and breathing.

The gunshots become more spaced out, replaced by men shouting instructions to the remaining workers. There’s a pause during which the sound of handcuffs locking is only muffled by the fires still raging in certain parts of the warehouse. Nines starts to push himself up from his charge, to analyze the damage done to his leg, when he hears the sound of something metallic hitting the floor.

Before he can analyze it, there’s a blast. White light turns his cameras blind. He feels himself being flung back by the force of the explosion, back hitting a wooden frame. The officer he was protecting is out of sight as his vision clears enough to register dark smoke. His HUD flashes several warnings, the most prominent being a red timer. _-00:07:00, time remaining before shutdown_.

That seems wrong. Nines looks down over his body and is surprised to find both lower legs missing, leaking thirium from the jagged plastic edges below his knees. There’s a piece of metal embedded in his stomach, another point of contact where synthetic skin has retreated to reveal his chassis. His instability rises.

The last thing Nines thinks of before his HUD goes dark is how he’ll never see Gavin again.

He wakes up thirty hours later in a bright, spotless room in CyberLife Tower, which has been repurposed by Jericho into a center for android technology advancement and medical care. Before opening his eyes, Nines sees the results from his diagnostic while in stasis: biocomponents operative, biosensors operative, AI engine operative, memory status operative.

Finally, he blinks awake and registers two things: the patterned walls and ceilings that make up every room in the Tower, and a strange source of external heat on the junction of his hip and thigh. Nines tests his movement range by lifting one arm, then the other, turning his head slowly to each side before raising it to look at his lower body.

His legs have been replaced as if nothing had happened. Judging by his stability and status, he had been given large quantities of thirium while unconscious. None of that surprises him. What does surprise him is Gavin, sitting on a chair by his bed, asleep against Nines’s lower body.

The anxiety doesn’t hit him immediately – it grows steadily each time he feels the warm breath against his thigh. Nines looks around the room for an explanation, but all he sees is Gavin’s backpack thrown against a corner by the door. No one else is with them.

None of this makes sense. He’s supposed to be dead, deactivated, how did they get him out in six minutes? Gavin would never care enough to drive himself across the river and sit by Nines’s side, no matter what Fowler threatened him with. For the first time, he wonders if androids can dream.

The door opens and a PL600 with soft eyes and a tired smile walks in.

“Hello, Nines. My name is Simon,” he introduces himself, coming to stand by the bed. Simon. Nines recognizes the name and designation as one of Jericho’s leaders. “I’ve been overseeing your recovery after Connor personally brought you to us. How are you feeling?”

“Stable,” Nines answers, glancing between the other android and the man still asleep on his lap. “I- where is Connor?”

“He could not offer details, but said there was urgent work to be done following the operation that resulted in your injury.” Simon follows his gaze and settles on Gavin, his smile widening slightly. “You’re very lucky. He insisted on staying by your side through the operation and has hardly left this room.”

“Oh.” His confusion grows with the flash of guilt across his circuits, the hope that Gavin may actually feel something for him. “Am I free to go?”

“Yes. You might want to take your boyfriend home for some proper rest, humans do not deal well with the prospect of loss.”

“My- yes, of course.” Nines forces a smile. Simon doesn’t need to know the truth about them if that’s what Gavin said to enter the Tower. “Thank you, Simon.”

“Of course,” the PL600 nods, taking anther look at the duo before leaving the room, doors sliding closed behind him.

Nines is left at a loss of what to do. He could simply sit up, wake Gavin roughly and leave without saying a word, keep those walls he built over the last few weeks, ignore the conflicting evidence. That feels… wrong, unfair. If what Simon said was true, Gavin had been scared to lose him.

The android raises his head again and looks down at his right hand, retracting the skin to reveal white and glowing blue. Without allowing himself to overthink the action, he lowers it onto Gavin’s head and strokes his hair, slow and gentle.

Gavin groans as he regains consciousness and Nines snaps his hand away like he’s been burned. There’s a moment of confusion as the man sits up and takes in his surroundings, face adorably marked by the fabric of Nines’s pants.

“Nines?” he asks, meeting the android’s eyes with surprised wonder. Before any reply can come out, Gavin is throwing himself onto the bed, arms wrapped around Nines’s shoulders. “Shit. Fuck, you irresponsible, self-destructive bastard. Fuck you. _Fuck you_.”

It takes a moment for Nines to realize Gavin is crying, clinging to him with his full strength, breathing erratic as he starts to shake. Gavin is crying for him.

“Gavin…” Nines moves his hands between their bodies, rests them on firm shoulders. All he wants is to pull the man in and hold him, but he pushes him away instead, applying force until Gavin gets the message and sits back against his stomach.

“What?” he sniffles, wiping at his eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here. I don’t understand.” Nines tries to sound calm, but Gavin looks at him with such a hurt, guilty expression he can’t help the crackle of static that follows his words. When Gavin’s hand cups his cheek, he leans into it.

“I’m supposed to be wherever you are. Fuck.” Gavin chokes back a sob, closing his eyes to center himself. “I’m an asshole and an idiot. There’s a lot of shit you don’t know, and you should- yeah, you should probably know. I can’t live with the shit I said to you, about you, I feel like I’m turning into-“ he stops abruptly, shaking his head.

“What… does this mean?” Nines asks, careful but undeniably hopeful, bringing his hand up to cover Gavin’s own.

“It means we have a shitload of things to talk about, and I’m not doing it here.” Gavin swallows thickly and pulls away, climbing off the bed and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Just… this place gives me the creeps. Come home with me?”

Nines’s thoughts raced. It could be a trick, a move to humiliate him in front of other people, a carefully set trap to expose his vulnerabilities- no. Gavin is honest, open, for the first time since their fight. Hesitantly, he nods.

“Come on,” Gavin waves him forward, walking over to his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He seems nervous, wiping his hand on his pants and looking anywhere but the android as he stands and flexes his new biocomponents. “Get a fucking move on.”

“Of course,” Nines apologizes, leading the way out the door. They descend several levels in silence, with the android’s gaze on Gavin, who in turn stares at the floor.

No one stops them on the way to Gavin’s car. Not one question, only curious glances from androids who never laid their eyes on an RK900 before.

Once in the car, Gavin puts on music to distract from the tension between them. It’s a sweet, poppy beat that does nothing to calm Nines’s overworked thirium pump as it hammers against his chest.

Walking into Gavin’s house feels like coming home. It shouldn’t, Nines knows that well, he shouldn’t create these intimate associations, but it’s impossible to forget how they’d shared touches and kisses on almost every surface.

“We should- I think the couch is appropriate for this,” Gavin mutters, motioning vaguely to the open living room. “Go ahead, I’ll just- I need to piss.”

Nines doesn’t reply, walks over to the couch and sits on the far end, drumming his fingers against the couch arm. His perception of reality is altered. Gavin cares, that much is clear now. Gavin regrets his actions. What else do they have to talk about?

He considers interrupting Gavin when he returns, laying out all his frustrations with his partner’s conflicting and hurtful behavior, walking out on him to let him suffer the consequences of his rejection. He thinks about it right up until the moment Gavin sits on the other side of the couch, leg tucked under him, looking lost.

“Gavin?”

“You… remember when we were in bed that night and you asked me where I got my scar?” Gavin asks, voice low, eyes fixed on the coffee table. “The one on my nose.”

“Yes.” Gavin had tensed under his hands and turned to face the wall, brushing it off as something he didn’t want to think about. “What does that have to do with us?”

“Just let me talk. Let me talk and… when I’m done, if you don’t want me, you can go.” Gavin fiddles with the zipper on his jacket, taking in a deep breath. His stress levels are high. “I know this doesn’t excuse the things I said, but maybe it explains them. I was seventeen when it happened.”

_It was a warm summer day. Gavin’s father was at work, always at work, so he knew there was little risk involved in bringing Mark home to “study”. They stumbled to his bedroom, trying to kiss while moving through the house, Mark’s hands slipping under Gavin’s shirt to touch his unmarred skin._

_Somehow, they made it to the bed. Gavin pulled his shirt off and tossed it on the floor before a push from his boyfriend sent him back onto the mattress, Mark descending upon him to explore his skin with his mouth._

_“Hurry the fuck up,” Gavin complained, raising his hips and pushing his jeans down._

_“Why do we always have to do this fast and hard?” Mark answered with a question, but unbuttoned Gavin’s jeans for him and helped him pull them off completely._

_“Because-“ Gavin kicked the offending fabric off the bed, then pulled at Mark’s shirt with enough force to tear the seams. “If dad comes home, you need to get the fuck out, and I don’t wanna have blue balls.”_

_“Shit,” Mark laughed at the urgency, but complied by removing his own clothing until both of them were left naked on the bed. For a minute, they just admired each other, and then Gavin’s hand on the back of his neck pulled him down into a rough kiss._

_Gavin was smart enough to have condoms and lubricant by the bed. His father didn’t care if he was sexually active, so long as he kept to the right gender._

_Both of them were hard and ready to go, and Gavin insisted on minimal preparation. Part of it was because he enjoyed the stretch, most of it was the terror that surged through him at the thought of being caught. They had to be quick even if his father wouldn’t be home for another two hours._

_Gavin grabbed the headboard and muffed his moans into the pillow as Mark rode him fast and hard. When the pace slowed and his boyfriend lowered his whole weight to Gavin’s back, biting at his ear and rolling his hips deep, Gavin nearly keened._

_That’s when the door burst open. There was a flash of panic that caused Mark to pull out roughly, scrambling to pull the comforter over himself as Gavin realized his worst fear had come true._

_“You fucking-“ his father’s voice was loud, enraged, and he was still in uniform. “Piece of shit, that’s what you are. Both of you!”_

_Gavin couldn’t speak. He pulled the other edge of the comforter over himself, eyes glued on the gun at his father’s hip, heart pounding painfully against his ribcage. He wasn’t expecting his father to reach for his phone instead._

_“You still make house calls?” he asked, confusing both boys. “Good. Come over in ten and I’ll give you an extra tip.”_

_“Mr. Reed, sir,” Mark tried, shaky. “I-“_

_“Shut the fuck up.” That’s when he reached for the gun. He pointed it straight at Mark’s chest, causing the boy’s eyes to widen in fear. “You stay right there, fag.”_

_“Dad, it’s not like that!” That was clearly the wrong thing to say._

_“No? I didn’t just walk in on my son being dicked down like a common whore?”_

_“Fuck, just let him go! He has nothing to do with this, I just- I won’t do it again,” Gavin begged, looking at Mark and nodding. “Go.”_

_“Don’t you dare move!”_

_Despite the threat, Mark grabbed his clothes and pulled his boxers on under the comforter, then scrambled off the bed. A shot rang through the room, the bullet flying past him into the wall._

_Without thought, Gavin launched himself from the bed onto his father, grabbing the hot barrel of the gun. The struggle to disarm the larger man gave Mark enough time to run out of the room carrying his pants and shirt in hand, but soon Gavin was overpowered and thrown on the floor._

_His father still had the gun in hand, but he didn’t shoot again. Instead, he used it to hit Gavin’s face, the hard metal colliding hard with his brow bone. It wasn’t a single blow. The boy tried to defend himself, to cover his face with his hands and push his father off, but nothing could stop the violent assault._

_“No son of mine is a goddamn aids monkey!”_

_There was a crack as the gun hit him right on the bridge of his nose, a sharp pain that made him scream. By the time his father did pull back, Gavin’s face was bleeding and starting to swell. His lip and cheek were cut, his eye almost unable to open, but the most noticeable wound was a gash across his broken nose._

_“You’re gonna learn your fucking lesson, bitch.”_

_Gavin didn’t understand the threat until he saw someone else had joined them – a woman, not anyone he knew. She wore a short dress and seemed far too comfortable with the situation even as Gavin’s father stood and revealed the full extent of the damage he inflicted._

_“Go ahead. Fuck the faggot out of him, do it until he learns to like it.”_

_“Dad, no-“ Gavin protested, trying to push himself away as the woman pulled up her dress and straddled his hips. She rocked down onto his now flaccid cock, unyielding as he tried to pull back, forcing him back to hardness through stimulation. Gavin sobbed._

_“Shut your goddamn trap,” his dad warned, gun aimed at him once more. “You’re going to fucking like it.”_

_Gavin could only hold himself still as the woman lowered herself onto his erection and rode him, ignoring his hard breathing and the tears now streaming down his face. When he closed his eyes, his father yelled at him to watch, so he did._

_He had expected to be thrown out, insulted, but not this. Even the beating he took was better than the sickening feeling of violation he felt as the woman forced his body to respond, the realization that his father was willing to see him die before accepting him._

“Gavin,” Nines interrupts, voice crackling with static as he takes in his partner’s shaking frame. There are no words that can erase that trauma.

“I thought I could pretend it didn’t happen.” Gavin laughs, dry and humorless. “I tried to fuck girls after that. Every time it just made me want to throw up, but I tried, I wanted to be cured.”

“Your sexuality is not a disease.” Nines frowns, moving closer to him, but not close enough to touch.

“I know that, dipshit.” Gavin shakes his head, looking at the android with tears fresh in his eyes. “Started going out with guys again after I moved out. I was- shit, maybe twenty-two? Decided to be a cop to be better than that asshole.”

“So what…”

“I couldn’t deal with you being an android at first. I thought… it was stupid to fall in love with a goddamn machine, a thing that could never return my feelings. And then you did. I mean, you never said it, but you asked… and I knew.”

Nines nods, resting one hand over Gavin’s own where it rests on his knee.

“I wanted us to be a thing. I thought, after twenty fucking years, I could have a boyfriend again. But I have too much of my shithead father in me and I freaked out, I found the first excuse I could to hide from you.”

“It was very hurtful,” Nines admits. “I believed what you said.”

“I know! I know, and shit, all I wanted was for you to get that goddamn gun out of my hand and kiss me, tell me it was gonna be okay, but you left. I can’t blame you, but you left. Shit. I was never going to shoot you.”

Gavin grips Nines’s hand with both of his, bowing forward and hanging his head.

“I’m sorry, Nines. I’m fucking sorry for everything – everything I said to you, to Connor, for asking us not to be partners anymore. I want to work with you. I want us… to be us again, at work and at home. I want to wake up to your stupid face in my bed.”

“Gavin.” Nines pulls his hand free, effectively getting Gavin to look at him. “This is a lot. I understand your fear now, but should we really engage in a relationship when the hurt is so raw?”

“Please, give me a chance. We won’t hide, I won’t treat you like a dirty secret, we can be a real couple.” Gavin reaches out again, holding the android’s hand. “I’m an asshole, but I’ll be better. You’re my partner, my best friend, and when I saw you on that operating table without skin, all machine as they tore off the broken parts of you, I realized I love you.”

The honest admission is far more than Nines ever expected. To think Gavin is willing to give himself over, heart and soul, after seeing Nines in his most inhuman form, that erases any doubts he may have had after the apology.

“You are an asshole,” Nines agrees, testing out the word. He smiles softly after saying it, leaning forward to press his lips against Gavin’s forehead. “But you’re mine for as long as you’ll have me.”

His lap is suddenly full of Gavin, the man clinging to him the same way he did at the Tower. This time, Nines wraps his arms around the smaller frame, nosing at Gavin’s hair and pressing another kiss to his head.

“Shit,” Gavin mutters, pulling back from his hiding place against Nines’s neck to look him in the eye again. “This would be much easier if I could do the mind-reading shit you and Connor do.”

“I know this was hard for you.” Nines can’t resist stealing a kiss, a soft touch of their lips. “Thank you for letting me in.”

“I had to,” Gavin admits, running a hand through Nines’s hair and messing it up enough that it makes him smile. “Does this mean you’ll move in?”

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“Don’t give me that crap, Nines. You were almost living here before I kicked you out.”

“Hm,” he hums his answer, leaning forward to touch his lips to Gavin’s neck. “Yes.”

No force in the universe could pull Nines away from Gavin for the remainder of the day and night. When he enters stasis, he’s wrapped around the man, legs tangled together under the heavy blankets.

The next day, they arrive at work together for the first time. No one seems to miss the fact Nines has a hand on Gavin’s lower back as they walk, or that both of them are smiling for the first time in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @hassumccoy or @daughterofdeath and on twitter @xhelasdottir.


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